


Misunderstainding

by hazelNuts



Series: Prompt Fics [29]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 00:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3589119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelNuts/pseuds/hazelNuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anonymous asked, "'i'm in my underpants in a laundromat waiting for my clothes to get washed and your clothes are in the machine next to mine and i noticed that when you put your clothes in they were all covered in blood what the fuck' au"</p><p>Stiles' evening had been going pretty well. And when a hot guy walks into the laundromat, he thinks it might become great. Until the guy takes off his coat and Stiles sees the state of his clothes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misunderstainding

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really bad at tagging. If you think I forgot any, please let me know in the comments.
> 
> Originally posted on [letswritesterek](http://letswritesterek.tumblr.com/).

Stiles side-eyes the guy that’s sitting next to him and keeps reminding himself of the reasons he shouldn’t just bolt out the door. He has a list:

  1.       his clothes
  2.       his dignity
  3.       the guy is probably faster than him and will make his demise more painful because he ran



He should have listened when Coach told him New York was where people would be brutally murdered by their neighbours.

And the evening had started out so well. The laundromat was empty. All the machines worked. He hadn’t forgotten his detergent. He hadn’t forgotten the book he was supposed to be reading. And then a hot guy had walked in. Stiles had thought his evening might get an epic ending with sex in the supply closet of the laundromat. Or at least a handjob.

Then the guy had taken off his coat. Stiles had frozen for a second, then ducked behind the tome he was reading for his EuroMyth class, while keeping an eye on Hot Serial Killer. There was no way all that blood had come from someone who was still alive. Stiles is a Sheriff’s son, he should know.

When Hot Serial Killer had taken off his shirt and trousers, Stiles had barely managed to contain a groan, and quickly moved the tome into his lap, because hot serial killers appeared to be his type. And this one wasn’t just hot, he was glorious. Back muscles rippled, abs appeared to be chiselled by the finest artist, and that ass –don’t start about the ass. The body said sex, but the face said murder. The guy’s jaws were clenched, eyebrows were drawn together in a scowl, and his lips were pressed together so tight, they were turning white.

Stiles had decided to stay very still and wish for the powers of invisibility. Maybe, if he wished hard enough, it would happen and he would survive washing his clothes.

Stiles peeks at the clock. Only ten more minutes till his clothes are done. He’s not going to bother with the dryer. He’ll just hang them all over his apartment. He can buy himself a brownie from the money he’ll safe and celebrate that he’s still alive.

Hot Serial Killer breaths out a long breath and cracks his neck. His shoulders slump a little and his face looks a little less pinched. When he sees Stiles looking at him, he raises his eyebrows.

‘What?’ Gods, that’s a really nice voice. It’s a lot smoother than Stiles had imagined.

Stiles feels his cheeks heat up and quickly turns back to his book. He tries to ignore the gaze of Hot Serial Killer, but he feels it burning a hole in his face. Yep, he’s going to die. He’s in his last pair of clean underpants and he’s going to die. They’re going to find him, bloody, and wearing nothing but Batman-Hello Kitty boxers.

The machine dings. Stiles jumps up, grabs his basket and goes over to get his clothes. He’s decided he no longer cares about his dignity, and he can use the wet clothes to slow Hot Serial Killer down.

There’s another ding.

From the machine Hot Serial Killer is using.

The one that is standing next to Stiles’.

He works a little faster and breathes a sigh of relief when all his clothes are in the basket. He turns, only to walk straight into the man he’d been trying to avoid any contact with. Stiles falls on his ass, his basket full of wet clothes drops out of his hands and falls upside down on Hot Serial Killer, who is also sprawled out on the floor.

It would’ve been really funny. The guy actually has a pair of Stiles’ boxers draped over his face. When he pulls it away, the stunned look on his face is both hilarious and adorable.

Stiles is pretty sure potential axe-murderers aren’t supposed to look adorable.

He scrambles to gather all of his clothes, but freezes when he feels a hand clamp around his wrist.

‘Are you okay?’ Hot Serial Killer asks. His face is full of concern. It makes him look softer, more approachable.

That’s how they lure you in, Stiles thinks.

‘Yep, totally fine, dude,’ he answers. The guy just raises his eyebrows, letting Stiles know he’s the world’s worst liar.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Just, uhm- In a hurry.’ Stiles is contemplating pulling his wrist free and making a break for it. His clothes be damned. And it’s New York, there are half-naked people running around all the time. ‘Sorry about that,’ he mumbles as an afterthought.

Hot Serial Killer nods, but keeps looking at him.

‘Well,’ Stiles says, when all his clothes are in the basket. ‘I’m off.’ He turns and walks to the exit as confidently and as fast as he can.

‘Wait!’

Oh no.

‘Your book.’

He turns slowly, forcing a grateful smile on his lips. ‘Thanks.’

The guy is still looking a little concerned and it’s really unfair, because Stiles wishes it was concern for _him_ , and not the fact that his next victim was getting away. Stiles tries to grab the big book, but he fumbles and it drops. The basket drops to the floor as well, when he tries to snatch the book out of the air. Thankfully, all the clothes stay in the basket. The book’s fate is less fortunate, because it drops on Hot Serial Killer’s foot.

‘Fuck. Shit. I’m so sorry,’ Stiles says. He tries to think of a way to safe himself, but somehow the guy has gotten between him and the door. Stiles isn’t going to make it. ‘I’m really sorry. Is it bleeding? It’s not broken, is it? Fuck, I’m so sorry.’ The guy glares up at him, where he’s crouching on the floor. ‘Please don’t kill me,’ Stiles squeaks.

The glare turns stunned. And then the guy sighs.

‘I’m not a murderer.’

‘Of course, you would say that. I always tell Scott that I didn’t eat the last Pop Tarts, even when I did!’ Stiles yells hysterically.

‘I’ve just had rough day.’

‘Your last victim wouldn’t stay quiet? Or their limbs didn’t get sawn off neatly enough?’

‘No, there was an accident, and one of the cars had several dogs inside.’

‘That- doesn’t make any sense.’ What the hell do dogs have to do with cutting people into tiny bits?

Hot Serial Killer stands up and extends his hand. A small smile is on his lips and there’s a twinkle in his eyes. ‘Hi, I’m Derek. I’m a vet.’

Stiles takes the guy’s hand, stunned. That little smile has changed the guy’s face completely. And in the short time that they’ve been talking, his stance has gone from angry and tense, to relaxed and open.

‘Stiles, student,’ he introduces himself, still rallying his thoughts. ‘So, the blood was puppy blood?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh my god, I’ve been thinking you were a serial killer for the past half-hour and you’re actually a hero. You save puppies! Wait, did you save the puppies?’

‘Yes, they’re all fine.’ That smile widens a little and Stiles feels his heart skip a beat.

‘Good, that’s good.’

Stiles has no idea what to do. A minute ago he wanted to run away as fast as he could. Now, he’s thinking of a way to push the guy against the nearest whatever to make out.

‘You still in a hurry?’ Derek asks, grinning.

Stiles is definitely kissing him, just so he can get that stupid grin of the guy’s face.

‘No. I’m totally free. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do.’ He picks up his clothes and brushes his shoulders with Derek’s as he walks past him to the dryers. When he puts his clothes in the machine, he sticks out his ass just a little more than is necessary. He straightens and turns. Derek’s are eyes are still fixed on the spot Stiles’ ass was a second ago.

‘You know,’ Stiles muses, ‘they never lock the supply closet in this place.’

Derek’s eyes snap to his face, his gaze intense. He grabs his clothes out of the washer and then throws them into the dryer next to Stiles’. He grabs Stiles’ wrist in a tight grip, but he sweeps his thumb over the skin in a soft caress, making Stiles shiver.

Pushed up against the supply closet door, with Derek’s face in his neck, Stiles suddenly thinks of something.

‘Wait, you said you weren’t a murder before I accused you of anything. Has this happened to you before? The being accused thing? Not the making out thing. Although, I imagine that has happened to you plenty of times.’

Derek sighs and pulls back slowly. ‘My sisters say that my resting face makes me look like a caveman/axe-murderer.’

Stiles can’t help laughing. And only laughs louder when Derek starts frowning, because from faraway he does look like a caveman/axe-murderer, but from up-close he looks more like a disgruntled puppy.

‘It’s not funny, Stiles. And you are never telling them about tonight.’

Stiles tells Laura an Cora everything three weeks later, when they meet for the first time. And Laura tells everyone in her speech at their wedding.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [tumblr](http://fandom-madnessess.tumblr.com/).


End file.
